


The Gray

by SpookyEvie



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:43:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpookyEvie/pseuds/SpookyEvie
Summary: Eugene got it now. He remembered it all. The way nearly two decades ago, his best friend had died, not before he saw in him quality he could not describe. The gray. And now it was happening again.This is inspired by the 27th episode of the trypod, The haunting of Eugene Lee Yang and is probably confusing if you haven't watched or listened to that.
Relationships: Ned Fulmer & Keith Habersberger & Zach Kornfeld & Eugene Lee Yang
Comments: 21
Kudos: 45





	1. The dream

Eugene took a step forward, then stopped. He looked at the ground, his mouth slightly open. Confusion crowded his mind. It was quickly forgotten as his face became blank once again, and he looked forward. He took a step, then another. Whatever happened, whatever came before this, didn’t matter.

He was in hallway. It was familiar to him, but at the same time foreign, like a nearly forgotten memory. Lockers lined the hallway, and in the weak light he could see their sparkling exteriors. It looked like they had never been touched before. It brought him back to another time, another place, one he was not eager to return to.

The floor underneath his feet had a similarly polished shine, his shoes leaving no mark he had ever been there. The fluorescent lights in the ceiling were dim, but they had an obvious absence of grime in the corners. Everything was perfectly clean. Everything was perfect. All the problems and mistakes smoothed over. He didn't have to focus on them anymore, he could enjoy this now. But, it was confusing. It felt wrong. These aren't the hallways he used to know, they didn't match the way he grew up. He didn't currently match the way he grew up.  
He kept walking. In the distance, he could see an object. Not an object but a figure. A person, a smaller person, lying on their side. An emotion rose up through his body, a yucky one. Suddenly, he knew what this was. Somewhere, in the back of his brain, was a ghost of a memory.

The closer Eugene got the more detail he could see. Like the substance the kid was covered in. The substance he identified to be blood. It was everywhere, soaked into his hair, stained on his clothes, even splattered on his shoes. Eugene almost stopped, starting to remember what happened next. Everything was fine one moment, then, the gray.

As if on cue, the lights dimmed above him tinting the world gray. When he turned around, all he could see was darkness. When he glanced back to the lockers, the fingerprints dotting the surfaces didn’t register in his brain for a few seconds, until one of the handprints was bright red.

He walked slower. He didn’t want to relive what was up ahead, have to again witness it, how fast a situation could change. Perfectly fine to dead, in no seconds flat.

Eugene shivered, the cold giving him goosebumps. Had it been that cold when he had started walking? His question only led to more questions. When had he even starting walking? Why had he started walking? He didn't know, but he understood that he could not stop until he reached this kid, which filled him with dread.

He was right in front of the kid now. He took a breath in, before closing his eyes. Why? he thought. Why do I have to do this? He had already done it once, why again? Why was he cursed with this?

He opened his eyes and looked around for a way out. But there wasn't one, there never was. He only saw the same disgusting lockers he did before, the same dusty lights and the same water damaged ceiling. The only thing that was different was the floor, which was splattered with blood. He remembered now, the phone call, the way that news had knocked the wind out of him, left his already dark world cold.

His hand shook, and he couldn't believe what he was doing as he lowered it towards the body. But before he was even half way there he recoiled, a gasp escaping his lips. His hand was dripping with blood. Eugene’s face contorted to horror, and he shook his hand, trying to get rid of the blood. A few droplets flew off, staining his shoes. He looked to his other hand, which was also stained with blood.

He racked his brain an explanation. Tried to grasp at any tangible memory that could account for this. His foggy mind only provided another crushing realization. The blood was on his hands, which meant it was his fault. Tears tugged at the corners of his eyes as he added why he was getting so emotional to the list of things he had to figure out.

He got it now. He remembered it all. The way nearly two decades ago, his best friend had died. But not before he saw in him quality he could not describe. The gray.

Blinking the tears out of his eyes he reached for the body once again. He avoided looking at it, searching in every other direction for a more pleasant sight. He could see very little, nothing any more pleasant. The filthy floor, the moldy locker, the cracked ceiling, the- he flipped the body over, and willed himself to look at it.

Cold, lifeless eyes stared back at him. Not a kid, but a man. The first thing that hit him was surprise. It wasn't who he thought it would be. Who had he thought it would be?

But that did not make it any better. Waves of horror made him almost physically fall over. The worst part was that he knew this guy. A friend, a coworker, family he couldn't place it, but he knew him.

Panic exploded in his mind, and he no longer fought the tears tugging at his eyes. The panic stabbed at his heart and restricted his breathing, becoming an entity of its own, tearing down the walls between asleep and awake. But before it did, he thought one last comprehensible thought.

It’s happening again.

That was when he woke up.  
His body shot up into a sitting position, breathing erratic. His pulse raced, and he could hear his heart in his ears. Steadying his breathing, he closed her eyes.

He was okay. There was no body in front of him. He wasn't trapped in a grimy hallway. That man wasn't dead. His hands shook and tear stains had dried on his face, but he was okay.

  
Previously forgotten exhaustion took over him and he fell back onto his pillow. As he drifted off to sleep, the memory of the dream faded.


	2. The silhouette

From the moment Eugene woke up that morning, he knew something was off. Something about the air perhaps. Was it colder? Something about him. Was he sick? He dismissed the thoughts as he got up. He must have just stayed up too late. Yesterday was Halloween, after all. With one check to the time on his phone, he knew he had no time to worry about it.

But as he walked around his living space, he could have sworn he saw a shadow peeking around the corner, a glimpse of a figure in the mirror, a glance of a silhouette in the doorway. Each time he froze, hoping to get a better look at it, but there was nothing there.   
Which struck him as not only creepy but odd. The first time he had thought it was the man's silhouette, someone he saw from time to time. But this was completely different. 

Whatever it was, and he wasn't even sure if it was there in the first place, was breaking the pattern he had known for his whole life. The times he had seen it, it was stoic, unmoving. Paralyzing. An outsider looking in. This didn't feel like that. It felt like it was trying to reach him. Something had changed. 

Slowly his unease turned to fear, and by the time he was getting into his car, his hands were shaking. He felt the offness even stronger there. He shuddered and checked the temperature of his car. It was fine, and he realized it wasn't the air that was off, but the atmosphere. The energy. As if there were something there he couldn't see, plaguing him and his surroundings. Someone he couldn't see? He shivered again, then even in the warm California weather, turned on the heater.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, for once eager to invite back the stresses of daily life. They were comforting, in comparison to spooky shadow people. And he certainly had a lot to be stressed about today. They were airing their Australia series this weekend, and work was still to be done there. They also had to record the next episode of the Trypod today. Which only brought his mind right back where it started.

Last week, he felt he had taken a risk telling the world about his weird family history and of course, the silhouette. None of them had taken it too seriously. Eugene couldn't say it didn't hurt, especially when they had gone back to joking and laughing the instant he was done. Not that he was expecting them to believe him entirely, he just wished…. He took a sip of the coffee he brought with him. He didn't know what he was expecting.

On top of that Ned had asked for people to ‘hex’ him, which only showed how seriously he took it. No death hexes please, Eugene had said. Yeah, no death hexes, they had all echoed, only a fraction as serious as Eugene. 

Eugene had been annoyed initially, because even if he didn't act like it, he cared about these guys and here they were, inviting dangers they couldn't be protected from. But at the same time he understood. They saw no real danger, so to them there was no harm in acting like that. Ned had a background in science. None of them had experiences like his. He shouldn't take it personally. Eugene sighed, then realized he was already at the office.

He walked up the door slowly and observantly, still uneasy from the mornings events. There was a breeze in the air, and he could hear birds chirping. He didn't think he had ever noticed how quiet it was when he first arrived every day. He hesitated at the door, something was still off, not right. He shook his head. He was being ridiculous. He opened the door and suddenly he couldn't breathe. 

Right in the doorway was the silhouette itself, as if it had come to answer the door. He gasped, and he tried to comprehend what he was seeing as dread filled every crevice of his body. He blinked, then noticed something. He almost felt stupid for not noticing it before. There was a bright red bowtie that was tied around the sillhouette’s neck. 

The bowtie started to get brighter and his gaze flickered to what should have been the face of this thing that stood in front of him. What did it mean? The face held no answers for him, and he looked back to the bowtie. It was getting brighter now, and right as it seemed it could not get any brighter, the fabric squeezed together, slicing the figures head right off its shoulder. The head tumbled back into the house and vanished. He looked back at the bowtie, now glowing with such fury he felt it would explode. 

And then it did. 

The bowtie got so bright it seemed to outshine everything around him until it was simply no more, gone, the light dying and the world returning to normal. There was no one there.

He blinked a few times, then stumbled through the doorway, trying to catch his breath. This had to mean something, there had to be an explanation, there had to be…. There had to be something. He heard voices floating from the office and rushed forward in that direction. He turned the corner to where he heard his friends when he noticed his shoes. Was that blood?

“Oh, hi Eugene,” The voice was distant, so far away from what was going on. But he was brought right back when he saw the speakers face. Ned, Keith and Zach, stared back at him, their faces slowly morphing from casual to concerned. But Eugene was panicking far too much to care.

Ned spoke again, “ Are you ok?” Eugene almost felt like asking the same question back. 

He saw it. The quality he now knew he could only describe as one thing. Ned was looking a little gray today.


	3. The Centipede

Ned was frightened. No not frightened, more like uneasy. Worried? He had probably been staring at his computer screen for only a few seconds, but it felt like hours. It was a bit disorienting, to go from a moment happening so fast to being obligated to wait in excruciating silence for who knows how long.

He continued to stare at his computer screen, even though he wanted to look away. The air was tense, and he felt he could disturb it with any movement.

It had been like that since he woke up, after being pulled out of a nightmare by his screaming child. Probably one of the few times he has been grateful to be woken up to that sound. It wasn't the worst bad dream he had by far, but it still shook him pretty badly.

In the dream, he had been sitting with his family when suddenly he felt he had to sneeze. He did the awkward sneeze thing, waiting for it when Wes had started to cry. Ariel had just turned and stared. He had done the same. At the time, it had felt perfectly natural, the only response to a crying child.

Then…. Ned looked down from his computer as he realized he couldn't remember what happened next. He sighed. He had remembered the entire thing when he woke up. But now, all he remembered was that terrified feeling, the utter uselessness in the face of danger. How could his brain had managed to forget that? Whatever _that_ was.

But he still remembered the end of the nightmare, and he sure wasn't going to forget it anytime soon. After that blank in the dream, he was in a different place, and though he couldn't remember how he got there dream Ned understood why. All alone this time, the feeling of a sneeze coming on returned. But the feeling quickly changed, turned to an agonizing feeling of something being pulled out of his nose, coming from deep inside him. He had gagged, and looked down in horror to see a long, scaly, centipede looking bug with uncountable legs slinking out of his nostrils and into his shirt, down his body and finally out past the hems of his pants and onto the floor.

It was unbearable, as if the very essence of his soul were being pulled out of his body, when suddenly it kind of was. The creatures tiny legs in addition to climbing, were coated in blood and carried his insides. His guts were being unraveled right in front of him.

That's when Wes had saved him. Ned finished retracing what was left of the memory and looked back up to the screen, which displayed a google search. _How long are centipedes?_ Ned knew what the dream was, he just had to figure out why the dream was.

This obviously had something to do with the last trypod. He had channeled some Shane Madej energy, and called upon people and demons alike to hex him. He said it mostly as a joke, _I’ll believe if a bug come out of my nose!_ He had promised, or something like that. What had surprised him most in the moment was how concerned even Keith and Zach were at the thought, as he was met with a chorus of nos. It felt childish almost, like they were warning him not to do something bad or Santa would put coal in his stocking.

He hadn't thought much of it in the past few days, consumed with other worries and commitments, also because he hadn't been that serious. But after his dream, he had felt that start to change.

_This is ridiculous,_ he thought. Maybe his subconscious had just took it more seriously than he thought. The power of suggestion was a powerful thing, and given the video in which they met with a medium, one he was not invincible to. It was purely psychological, a trick of the chemicals in his brain.

But part of him was starting to believe that maybe there was something else there. That somehow there was a meaning other than images flashing through his unconscious brain. But that part of him was working mostly without the rest of his consent.

He tried to quiet his thoughts, tired of their endless pondering and tried to return to being productive. He had managed to do that earlier, until Eugene had staggered into the room looking like he was about to have a panic attack. Something was immediately worrying about him, so off from how Eugene normally was. Ned had asked him if he was okay, and Eugene had replied with a give me a minute. Eugene had looked down slowly like he was trying to figure something out, then walked out of the room towards the front door, faltering from time to time.

They had all looked at each other, then came to the agreement that they would do as he asked and give him a minute. When he came back they could talk. But if that minute went by…. They all hoped he would come back.

When he realized ‘productive’ wasn't happening, and a quick glance around the room told him it was the same for the other two, he spoke. “He’s been out there a while,” Ned hesitantly said, breaking the silence.

Zach looked up from his computer. “I know, do you think we should do something?” There was a beat of silence. No one knew what to do.

Finally, Keith spoke. “ I think we should give him another minute, or maybe text him or something.” Ned hesitated and bit his tongue. When he realized no one else was going to do it, he slowly nodded and got out his phone.

_Hey, are you coming back?_

“I texted him” Ned put his phone back in his pocket. “Now we wait.” That same uncomfortable silence started to seep back into the room, the situation growing tense once again.

But that was all thrown off when Keith gasped. “Holy shit,”

“What” Ned looked at Keith, getting a bad feeling from his tone. That's when he felt it, the same feeling he had felt earlier, the only difference being now he was awake. When he looked down just as he had in the dream he saw a millipede at least 2 inches long, crawling out of his nose.


	4. The Question

_If you or another saw the gray within one of us, would you tell us? _

The question raced through Eugene's brain, the foreshadowing undeniable. Zach had never gotten his answer. Eugene had answered honestly at the time, while mixed with an attempt to avoid the question. I don't know how it works, he had said. Now here he was in that very situation and he could find no more answers for himself.

He sat in his car, and tried his hardest not to cry. He was thinking of that last podcast, more as a distraction from his actual problem. _God damn it Ned!_ He thought, becoming angry. _You have a family for god's sake! No death hexes, did we really think that would stop anyone!_ He inhaled a sharp breath, trying to calm down, trying to comprehend, trying to distract. But nothing was working.

_Would you tell us? _

He really didn't know how it worked. What if he was just imagining it? What if he told Ned, cursed Ned, and it happened anyway? What if he didn't, and Ned never got to see his family again, his kid again?

His mind caught on the word never. Never again. It was such a devastating thought. He would never record a podcast again. He would never greet Eugene each morning again. It was the little things that were starting to set in for Eugene and hit him right where it hurt. He would never see their Australia series premier. He would never make any stupid little dad jokes again.

Eugene's breath hitched and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. A thousand messages ran through his brain, all trying to tell him what to do, but all he could get from them was that he needed to something other than hyperventilating in his car. He needed to calm down, he needed to help Ned, he needed to figure this out, he needed a drink, he needed to do something. So many overwhelming thoughts were hurled at him, when one sickening thought stood out.

It should be him. The idea made him want to throw up, but deep down he knew it was true. Ned had so much in his life, a family to raise, a future that looked so bright, and he deserved it. If Ned disappeared, what would happen to them? Out of the four of them, Eugene had the least amount of people depending on him.

It was Eugene who should...have the gray, whose darkness and negativity he had spent his life in surely warranted. Sure the try guys as a whole would suffer, but they would make it, he knew they could, and they would.

When he felt his already thin composure crumbling and tried to ground himself. _But it's not you. It’s him._ A feeling of injustice creeped up on him, which made him feel even worse, so he forced the thoughts from his mind. _This isn't relevant_ he thought, but at the same time he felt more tears blur his vision.

_Would you tell us? _

The nearly forgotten image of the silhouette entered his brain. The red bowtie, the explosion that set off this entire thing. What was that thing Ned said? Red rhymes with Ned. Had it been trying to warn him? _Want to know what else rhymes with Ned?_ His mind provided, unnecessarily. _Dead. Ned rhymes with dead!_

Eugene felt his composure disintegrate. He laughed. It wasn't really a laugh, but more of a laugh mixed with a sob, delirious cries at his fucked sense of humor that his brain was currently using in a terrible context.

It was almost funny to him. It was just a stupid, silly rhyme that was barely funny in the first place. That's all this was wasn't it? A stupid little silly story he told on a public podcast. Except it wasn't a story, and it wasn't funny. All his laughter was gone now and he collapsed into full on sobbing. He grabbed the steering wheel and laid his head between his hands, just to ensure no one would see him.

_Would you tell us?_

_Why?_ He thought. _Why do i have to deal with this?_ He was useless in this situation. There was nothing he could do.

Tears dripped onto his pants, and he gasped and sobbed, his body heaving. Maybe he would run out of tears. It had been so long since he had last cried. Surely his tear ducts had dried up ages ago. Or maybe he had been saving them all up until now, and some unknown floodgates inside him had been released.

You never truly realize how hard it is to stop crying until you try to do it. Maybe that was true for a lot of things. In theory, things are pretty, romantic. In practice it’s purely the opposite.

Gradually, life started to become disoriented, and he felt like he was watching a movie. The blurred view of his pants, the crisp light flowing in, all aided this. Maybe this wasn't really happening, maybe he could go back inside, and forget it had happened at all.

_Ding! _

He lifted his head up, and looked at his phone which was sitting on the passenger seat next to him.

_Hey, are you coming back?_ It was from Ned, which brought reality crashing right back on top of him.

But this time he was strong enough to not fall apart. Or maybe he really had run out of tears. Maybe he had cried out all of his panic. Because now, in this newfound clarity, he could see what he had thought earlier was wrong. He was not useless, at least not here, is this situation. In fact his part was probably the most important. He was the only one with the power to change anything. He had the one decision that could make a difference.

_Would you tell us?_


	5. The Plan

Eugene walked up to the door, a numb determination on his face. He had just finished with step one, slashing Ned's tires. One less way to go. He had settled numbness over him like a blanket, not allowing anything to get to him. He needed to do this, and he needed to keep it together. 

He had found an old pocket knife in his car, which had worked well enough, if slow. A horrific car accident was not in Ned’s future. Neither was choking on hard candies, or being electrocuted by the broken charger Eugene had found in Ned’s car. Maybe he was being a little too thorough. He had to be, and he needed a minute. 

Eugene took a breath as he stood at the door. It was a bit later now, meaning he would have to face their whole team. All the editors, producers and assistants that had arrived while he was hiding in his car. Hopefully the other guys hadn't said anything to them. 

He stood a second longer, mentally preparing himself, when he heard a scream, followed by another shriek. 

Hesitation forgotten, he burst open the door and rushed to their office, ignoring all the curious glances he got on his way there. Flashes of the horrific scene that could lay ahead of him flew across his vision, and he swore he saw a flash of a silhouette. Which only scared him more.

But the scene that lay before him was something he couldn't have guessed. 

“Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!” Zach screeched, as Keith used stomped his foot on something. He looked to Ned, who had a terrified expression on his face and had his hands on his nose. 

Then Eugene finally looked down, and saw the long scaly little creature that set off the commotion. 

“What the fuck is that,” He said queitly, more to himself. It was a millipede. 

Finally the thing was dead, and the room returned to silence. Keith was looking at Ned with a similarly horrified expression on his face, and his hands went up to his own nose. Zach looked slowly from the smashed remains of the bug, to Eugene. 

“Hi Eugene,” His mouth was still slightly agape, the shock still fading from his face. 

“Where did that thing come from?” 

“My nose.” Ned responded, his voice a little shaky. Eugene took a shaky step towards his desk, and as he sat down the curtain of shock was finally lowered from the room.

“So Eugene,” Keith took a breath. “Was there something you wanted to tell us?” At that moment Eugene suddenly felt like a chastised child sitting in front of a concerned parent. It unnerved him. 

“A bug came out of your nose?” Eugene said ignoring him, continuing this childlike theme. 

“Yeah. I don't know how it got there.” He looked into Eugene's eyes, for the first time since he entered the room. 

Eugene slightly gasped. “ Last week you-” 

“I know.” Ned looked down at his computer and shivered. He then reached towards his mouse and clicked something, and Eugene heard the power off sound. 

“I have to tell you guys something.” Immediately they all looked up at him, curious eyes with a tint of concern. 

So he told them. It all came in a rush, quickly spoken words he was not eager to speak again. All his visions and suspicions were unloaded onto these guys as he stared stoically onto the table in front of him. When he finally looked up, he looked to Ned. 

His face was pensive, then panicky, then defeated.

Eugene felt a need to explain himself.

“I just didn't know whether I should tell you guys, I don't even know how this works.”

Another moment of silence passed, when Keith broke the silence.

“How can I believe you?” That was not the response Eugene was expecting, though in hindsight he felt stupid for not preparing for it. He hadn't thought about having to convince them, it was what came after that had occupied all of his worry. The possible consequences of this choice. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Ned beat him to it. “I believe you.” Slowly, Eugene nodded.

Keith shook his head. “Ned, you can't be serious.”

“After everything that's happened today? It makes sense.”

“Ned, no one is going to die!” Keith’s tone was reassuring, or at least attempting to be reassuring. They started to argue, one shaky word after another. Eugene lowered his head into his arms, feeling like he had made the worst decision possible. On top of everything else, they were angry. He had made them angry, hadn't he? In all the terrifying possibilities, this was one he had never imagined.

“Guys!” Zach’s rang out above the others, and they slowly quieted. He gestured to Eugene. 

“No one is going to die!” Keith shouted, but there was a tremble in his voice which made his feelings clear. He needed to hear it himself. 

A tense silence filled the room, and Keith seemed to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” Eugene practically whispered.

Ned swallowed. “It’s not your fault.” 

Eugene looked up in disbelief. How could Ned sit there and reassure him, knowing what was coming, what he saw, what he knew, what this meant? Eugene almost laughed. 

Then Zach spoke. “We need to figure this out.” So they did.

Zach

Zach had come up with the plan, if you could even call it that. Everyone else was overwhelmed by the situation, as he guessed he should be. Instead, he was opting to get this done first, not think so far ahead. He was trying not to think about it too hard. He knew if he did he would get swept up in it all, and fall apart.

It was probably a stupid plan as far as plans go, probably destined to be ineffective, but there was no harm in trying. Besides, it would get their minds off things for the time being, if that was possible. They had taken up Eugene’s solution, and were going to try to eliminate any possible way Ned could die in the building. Meanwhile, Ned was being closely watched under a coworkers eye, not having moved from his desk. Even if that coworker was completely oblivious to the situation at hand.

Convincing their staff nothing was wrong had proved to be a challenge of its own, and after sending half of them home and telling the other half a series of uncoraberating lies, few remained trusting in them. 

Even now, Zach felt one of his editors eyes burning into the back of his head as he went through the fridge. He ignored it, and went back to examining the various dips they had. He had been tasked with checking the fridge for any source of poisonous substances. 

He grabbed a container of milk from the back of the fridge, and brought it up to his nose. 

Definitely bad. He threw it out. Heading back to the fridge, the editor caught his eye.

He gave a nervous smile before he spoke, “hi, i’m just.. you know,” he made a gesture towards the fridge, “ cleaning out the fridge.” The editor nodded, although the hint of suspicion had not disappeared. Zach let his smile fall and he returned to the fridge.

The fridge was nearly full, props for videos, employees expired lunches and employees fresh lunches occupied the space, and as he took it all in he felt a wave of hopelessness. None of this stuff could actually kill Ned, it wasn't like he was just going to get up and decide to chug a gallon of spoiled milk, or eat a few months old turkey sandwich, or even mistake cleaner for juice.

But Eugene had insisted, so here he was. 

He heard footsteps from down the hall, so he closed the fridge and stood causally, ready to wait for them to go away. 

“Hey, do we have any ibuprofen or anything like that? I have a headache.” It was an editor. Zach nodded, and pointed to the cabinet next to the fridge. He looked down at the floor, beginning to lose himself in thought when the editor spoke again.

“These aren't ibuprofen,” The editor had two normal small red ibuprofen tablets in his hand, but next to it was another, whiter, longer tablet. Zach frowned and reached over to look in the cabinet.

Towards the very back, covered in dust, was an orange bottle with the name Ned Fulmer along the side. It looked like it hadn't been touched in quite some time, and must have been a years old opioid prescription for Ned.

The editor followed Zach’s gaze, then picked up the bottle and read the label.

He let out a short laugh before saying, “That's funny, if I had taken those instead, it could have killed me.”

KEITH

Keith’s mind was working a mile a minute, sent into a panic. He moved numbly, fearfully, jumpily. His entire world view had been shifted in just a few moments. And it had started with a centipede coming out of his friend's nose.

He stopped and took some deep breaths. They had a plan, and he had to do his part, and it would be easier to do if he could hear his rational thoughts over the irrational ones. 

His job was to check for anything in the structure of the house that could kill Ned. Simple. Definitely simple. He had already gone through the kitchen and bathrooms as best as he felt he could, without really knowing what he was looking for. What he and the others did know was when you google most “common was to die in a house,” right after the suicide prevention hotline it says falls and fires ranked 2 and 3 on the list. So here he was, trying to diagnose a house with “anything out of the ordinary ''. 

There were no stairs, no worry of a fire, and they had ruled out an earthquake, thanks to   
Eugene's superhuman ability to what, exactly? He wasn't even sure, but he was sure regretting all those jokes he had made about it. But then again, who knew? Maybe they really did just have to beat the gray by one second. 

He knelt down next to the electrical outlet next to him. He could tell that it was fine just by looking at it, but it wouldn't hurt to be thorough. 

He sighed and got back up when he realised it was pointless. If Eugene was right, how could they even think they could save him?

He was about to go talk to Eugene when something caught his eye. There was an outlet he had missed, sitting in what was the living room, and a white charger was connected to it, charging someone's phone. The phone was precariously balanced on the arm of a chair, and the cord was strained as it started to slide off, inches from a cup of coffee. At an angle that if someone happened to nudge the chair, even a little bit, the phone would fall into the coffee still connected to the outlet. If that person should have happened to be holding the cup, it would spill, electrocuting them. 

He recognized the cup from the morning. He had seen who had poured it, only noticed because of the paranoid way he had done it. 

It was Ned’s cup.

NED

Ned sat, and if anybody saw him at that particular moment, they would assume he was fine. That couldn't be further from the truth. If he was going to be perfectly honest with himself, he was scared. There were a million things he wanted to do, and he didn't want to think about the fact he might not get to. He felt like he was holding on to a million balloons, a million hopes and dreams and he couldn't find it in himself to let them go.

Most of all, he wanted to call Ariel. They had told him not to, not until they were sure nothing would work, and he had agreed. But now, something has changed. He felt changed. He knew it was coming and he didn't want to waste a single second being sure. 

Eugene had sent the coworker watching him home, and Eugene had sat with him for a few minutes after the other two left, but shortly he had rushed out as if it were the last place on Earth he wanted to be. Ned had wanted to stop him, but he didn’t know how. There were just too many things he had to do.

He felt his emotions spike dramatically, and he took a deep breath. He was pretending to be strong for everyone else, and he supposed that was fairly common. When you saw your end coming, it didn't matter for you anymore. Everything you did had to be for everyone else, because only they would get to see what happened next. 

He grabbed his phone off the desk next to him, and called Ariel. He was trying to be selfless, but he didnt know who he did it for. 

Ariel answered after three rings.

“Hey, what's up?” That got to him. That voice he knew so well, the one he loved so much, and now… He squeezed his eyes tight. 

“Ariel,” He said, voice breaking.

“Honey? Are you ok?” She asked, picking up his tone immediately. Maybe Ned wasn't being selfless with his “for everyone else” mentality. Maybe he was like a parasite, grasping at other peoples lives, clinging to any possible way he could live on. Sticking pieces of himself on everyone else, because he was afraid of death, of being forgotten. 

“Ariel,” He said again, and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. 

“Ned, what's going on?” Her voice was drenched with concern. He wished he could go back, to anytime that wasn't now, hold the innocence he knew before this moment, the one she still had. How could he ruin that for her?

“Look, if something happens to me, I just want you to know I love you and Wes so much,”

“Ned, you're scaring me, what's happening?” Ned choked out a sob.

“I’m dead Ariel, I’m dead.” then he cried. Big ugly sobs, and he spilled everything to her. Everything that had happened, and he knew he could. He was not burdening her with this, he was trusting her with it.

“I love you,” He said, after she already said she was on her way.

“I love you too, see you soon,” She said, and then he hung up. 

But, one by one, he was letting go of the balloons, watching them gracefully float up into the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its been so long! I will post the final chapter before the end of the week.


	6. Whispers into the Darkness

**The Silhouette**

The shadow creature moved across the lawn, with one thought racing through his mind. He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't even be able to think of doing this.

Most of his kind lived out their quiet existences serving their purposes, accepting what was meant for them. But he was an anomaly, just an abnormality, an inconsistency in the laws of existence. He shouldn't even be able to refer to himself as a ‘he’.

Now he was paying for it. Winds whipped around him, tossing his nonspecific form into a hellish landscape of hurricane and rain darker than the absence of being itself. Although he could fight it, he had too, and he knew he would when he saw the reason why.

Through the storm, he saw the human sitting peacefully on the front steps of his domain. _Office_, the more human side of him corrected. And that was simply the problem.

He had gotten attached. That was the problem, explanation and answer. He was going against order, attempting to save someone marked by the hue of death, all for that. All for him. One who had the unique power to see it.

Before, the thick fog of reality separated him from the human, and only in moments of true clarity was the human able to see the him, frozen in his observation. The shadow creature could reach him if he tried hard enough like he had nearly twice today. It had merely been a vague warning under already vague circumstances, and he was overjoyed when the human seemed to understand. Now he felt the dark rain pellet him, knew the entire universe was screaming its refusal of him and what he was trying to do.

The human sat, unaffected by the commotion, and two more joined him. _Friends_, he remembered. Then the human looked up and the shadow creature fought against the storm harder than he had ever fought anything in his entire existence until he was standing above him.

_I’m here. See me._

The human opened his eyes. The shadow creature felt hope, a new feeling, probably the best one he had felt yet. But the human looked right through him, letting the rain drip on his face, and the hope evaporated. Real rain now fell through the shadow creature. He was unguarded, and a gust of wind pushed him back into the grass. He was on his hands and knees, trying to get the feeble matter of his hands to grip the grass long enough to stabilize himself but he was pushed backward anyway. Through the haze he saw the human get up, walk inside, away, unreachable.

_NO!_ He roared, but the storm roared louder. It was no longer pushing but pulling, preparing to take him down to where he couldn't come back. He screamed and continued to fight, pulling up grass and whatever he could reach.

He couldn't see more than three feet in any direction around him and his feet started to phase through the ground. The blossoming human-like soul inside him glowed bright, but he knew it would soon be gouged out of him. He shook his head. This couldn't be it.

He let out a piercing scream as his torso was enveloped by the void growing around him. He scratched and clawed at the solid ground around him, but he knew it was futile. He stopped fighting. He recognized he was breathing, as unnecessary as it was it brought him all the peace he needed. Then he laughed and thought of the human he owed this humanity too.

_Goodbye, Eugene._ It pierced reality as a whisper. The wind and rain collapsed inward onto him, and the remnants of his soul, the anomaly, plummeted back into the darkness.

**Eugene**

Eugene always thought he had a lot of secrets. They crawl around inside him like spiders, black and shiny, long legged and illusive, an infestation of icky. They skitter their way to the surface, tripping over each other, excited by the prospect of light. And eventually, one will find its way there. It claws its way out, takes a few spindly steps forward, only to be immediately crushed by the people in the outside world, including himself. The rest of the spiders, like an ant colony taken form of a tsunami, grasp at any way back up as they are pushed back into the caverns of his soul.

But secrets, like spiders, have short memories. And up the water spout they will go once again.

The secret of the gray had lived a prosperous life until now, reinforcing his idea. Maybe, if he had kept his mouth shut this wouldn't be happening. Then Ned would have nothing to challenge, no paranormal experiment to run, no hexes to test. He wouldn't be sitting on the front steps of his workplace, waiting for two of his friends to eliminate all causes of death before the death even happened.

The door opened, then closed. Keith and Zach were standing behind him. Eugene looked up, at the street, his car, the sky. It looked like it was going to rain, and a breeze brushed a wisp of hair out of his eyes.

It was time to see if it worked, and he wasn't ready.

He closed his eyes tight, then tilted his head straight up at the sky. Anything to keep the tears at bay. He just needed a few seconds. Then those few silent seconds passed, and when a raindrop fell right on his forehead he knew it was time to go inside. He let it run down his face like a tear, then got up and followed Keith and Zach inside.

He walked slowly, making suspicious eye contact with every person he saw. Each eyed him back, confusion and concern in their eyes. He ignored it.

Once at the door, he stopped. There was a baffling absence of offness anymore. It was like a vacuum, it felt like nothing, just sudden emptiness amidst the heavy air of eerie apprehension. What sounded like a whisper, a murmur made him turn around and face the outside he had just left. Both Zack and Keith turned to Eugene.

He shook his head. It was time, regardless of atmosphere. He pushed passed them, and entered the room Ned was in.

He was shocked. Shock was the first thing he felt when his brain registered what he was seeing. Then relief.

Ned read the answer right off his face. Then his face too turned to relief, wasting no time to confirm.

“He's okay?” Keith asked, with hesitant solace in his tone.

Eugene could only nod. Ned looked vibrant as ever, the colors of his face vivid and strong. There was a luminous quality to his laugh, and he was absolutely, definitely, not gray.

The doorbell rang. Someone in the other room yelled that it was Ariel, and Ned smiled and rushed to meet her.

Eugene didn't move, still slow from shock. Then it was happening again, everything flipped, plunged right back into gray so fast his reaction was delayed.

“Wait-” he stumbled after Ned ,who didn't stop, but before he could even take three steps he heard a thud followed by a horrible squelch that belonged in a horror movie.

He ran out the door, trying to process the grotesque scene that laid before him.

Ned was laying on the floor, impaled by a light fixture, blood gushing from the area around the wound. Eugene froze as he put the pieces together.

The light, succumbing to gravity as the weak chain that held it gave out, catching Ned halfway to his wife.

The metal piece that held it together, now lodged into where Eugene would have guessed his heart was. Eugene looked into Ned's eyes, and Ned looked at his.

And somewhere in those eyes he felt an echo. The echo of another place, another time, decorated with mold, lockers and bitterness. It was laced with contradictions, tugs of other whispers from his past.

All it took was a metaphorical tug on the right one and the floodgate of memories came crashing down on top of him. He got it now, he remembered it all. The boy, the way his eyes looked, the accident, the phone call, the moldy lockers, his own bloody hands. It was too much. It was happening again. The memory, strong after being preserved and buried under years and years of repressed grief, anger, and guilt called to him. But he didn't have time to listen.

Ned made a groaning sound, and his eyes moved to Eugene’s. Cold acceptance was all he found. Ned's eyes stayed on his, and Eugene would have thought he imagined Ned's eyes getting greener, more vibrant, looking ironically more alive. The gray slipped from him, purpose fulfilled.

Vaguely, he felt a flurry of movement and noise around him, commands and shouts. A call of tragedy. But he couldn't be less interested.

Ned's eyes took one final journey down to his injury, then to Eugene. Eugene opened his mouth, and a breath left him by force. It was all too fast, he hadn't even had a moment to move.

The displaced air was replaced by a sob, but his eye contact remained firm.

Ned’s didn't. He wasn't looking at him anymore, Eugene could tell. They were looking straight through him, into nothing. It was happening again. It had happened again.

"Goodbye Ned," Eugene whispered.

Ned was gone.


End file.
